One Last Hurrah
by TheWhoufflePrincess
Summary: Post-Hellbent, but Pre-Husbands of River Song. Whouffaldi if you really squint, or rather, it looks more like a one-sided love from Clara. He's aimlessly wandering, as he does. He chooses to stop by an alien bar for a drink, for no true purpose and does not realize who he is talking to until it is too late.


Twelve feels a bit OC for me here, but I went with it anyway. The idea just came out of nowhere...it does feel poorly executed and I let the words flow. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

Enjoy! Comments and such are always appreciated. :)

* * *

He has been wandering slightly aimlessly for awhile. Not that he's never done that, but for once, he feels like he really is just wandering. He's alone in the TARDIS, after that woman, Clara...had gone away. His mind feels tormented, really, her memory slowly fading ever so slightly away from him, as though she is a light at the end of a tunnel that just keeps getting longer and longer. He knows that the song he plays will start to become meaningless, the grief will start to be misplaced, and the idea of her would start to float away. It was terrible, but he could do very little in order to save the memories.

He sets a random destination to the TARDIS, telling the old girl to take him anywhere. She complies, landing seconds later at a Space Bar with a name that he could really care less about. It was well known for it's signature rule: You must wear an animal mask. Now the Doctor found it ridiculous, but the bar kept it's reputation with exquisite drinks that came from all sorts of time periods. He peers out at the seven moons of the planet and shrugs. He might as well see the possibilities of how their machines worked out the time constraints. He gingerly steps out of the TARDIS and made his way to the front, where an alien humanoid was leaning against the establishment's wall. There were masks of all sorts to his side set on a table.

"Good evening, welcome. Your name and the mask you would like to don?" The humanoid greets.

"The Doctor and a fox, please." The man raises an eyebrow at the Doctor's request (as most chose strange alien animals) and odd name, but his job did not include small talk, so he does not ask. He writes the Doctor's name and the fox mask. It was a simple one, but only covered his upper face. He put it on and stepped inside.

Today's entertainment was a human variant, some duo that was probably in a century in the far future. He took a seat at the bar counter, besides a human woman who was peering at her champagne glass like it was a curse. She wore a mask of a raven, quite fitting for...that woman. She wore a dark red dress, stopping at her knees. Her dark brown hair was just above her olive coloured shoulders and parted slightly to the left. The woman looked up to him and her eyes were the most vivid dark brown, which took him by surprise. The woman smiles at him and watches as he orders a random drink.

"Staring isn't really appropriate." He says as he receives his drink from the bored violet skinned bartender.

"You're new." She points out and he raises an eyebrow at her accent. English, Lancashire. Familiar, but his mind refuses to piece everything together.

"First time. You?" He inquires, sipping the blue liquid. It tastes atrocious, his taste buds protesting. He spits it back into his glass and the woman giggles.

"My seventh. My friend tells me I should stop coming here, waste of my time, she says. She's a downer." She speaks with fondness towards the friend, despite the way she was describing her.

"Well, your friend is right." He orders a human drink, a martini, from the time period he's familiar with. "You could be doing other things with your life rather than staying here. I can see the appeal, but there are other things you can do."

"It isn't really because of that."

"Do enlighten me."

"Immortality," she pauses, sipping her drink, but she does not look satisfied. If anything, she looks as though she hated what she was drinking. "is a curse."

"You don't have to tell me twice." He chuckles, taking the fresh martini that the bartender placed on the table. He takes another sip. It wasn't terrible, but it also wasn't the greatest. She regards his comment, but then decides to continue on her thought process.

"I'm not really immortal. I'm..." She runs a fingernail around the tall champagne glass, "I'm just not the woman I used to be, now I am just between two points in time," She settles on that descriptor, refusing to go deeper, "Drinking is useless. Sleeping is useless. Eating is useless. Living is useless - not sure if you could call my situation living - but I don't want to go yet."

"Rough. What did you do for that to happen?" He knows entertaining the very idea that this woman was more than meets the eye would be dangerous, but he couldn't help it. She was a mystery behind a mask. A mask he was tempted to lift.

"Lots of unfortunate events happened to me." She says with a underlying tone of sadness in the words, putting emphasis on unfortunate. "It took my friend away from me and now I travel with another friend, the woman who tells me to stop coming here. I love my friend and all, but I miss the last one." Clearly, the woman had some sort of troubles that she could never reveal to her current companion. He is intrigued, despite the possibility it could be one of those stories from the cheesy romance novels that his old companion used to read.

"What was the last one like?"

"Well...he was stern and ruthless, yet kind and empathetic. He was Scottish, like you, I suppose. He didn't like hugs, but he warmed up to them after I forced him to. Everyone often mistook him for my father, or even my grandfather if they were really dense. He would flip universes for me or even kill..." She trails off from her words and the Doctor could see tears forming in her eyes slightly through the eye holes of the mask. "He had an awakening when his friend had made him realize something and we became close, as his stern and ruthless demeanor started to chip away. I wished we were closer sometimes, despite the impossibility of it all...Christ, sorry, I must be boring you." He raises an eyebrow at the mention of Christ, as it was a 21st century type of way to curse, if that was the right way to go about it.

"No, no, it's alright. Did your friend die?" He asked carefully, hoping he did not bring a sensitive topic of death up and make her leave. He was actually quite interested in her tale now.

"He did not die, but he might as well have. He doesn't know me anymore." She says with a stronger tone of sadness. At this point, he could see tears rolling down her cheeks, but her voice did not waver. "It's been awhile. Many years."

"How many?" He dares to ask and she looks to him.

"Nine hundred and counting." She chuckles sadly and he winces slightly at the number, "Really, my experience only reminded me of another friend of mine. He was equally as impossible, like my Scottish friend. I liked him too."

"You have an affinity for liking impossible men." He responds, finishing his martini and realizing how his mouth had gotten used to the taste.

"I do, don't I?" She wipes the tears from her cheeks. "Are you impossible?"

"Perhaps. I had a friend who was impossible, but I can't remember her."

"Ah, so like my Scottish friend."

"I just know we had many adventures and her memories were taken from me for the universe." He scowls as the bartender comes with another martini. Believing the scowl was for him, the bartender left as fast as he could.

"The universe is quite unforgiving, isn't it?" They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds were the quiet murmurs of the other patrons and the duo at the front, playing soft hymns. "The universe...it hurts."

"Just like immortality."

"Just like immortality," she agrees and peers up to the back of the bar, where a woman with a dove mask. The Doctor looks up too, then notices the woman beside him down her drink. "I must cut our meeting short."

"Ah, I thought we were about to get into the deep details of immortality."

"As much as I would like to, this bar is about to blow up." She checks the watch on her wrist. 40th century technology from Earth, he notes. "In about two minutes." He raises a thick eyebrow and she explains, "Illegal practices are being performed here. My friend opposes to that."

"I see." _So much for seeing the technology,_ he thinks, "And your solution is to blow it up?"

"One last hurrah with my friend. I have always been the action type, Doctor. It's just my way. It was one of the reasons you liked me, you know." His eyes widen momentarily and the question is forming in his mouth when an alarm is set off. The patrons evacuate and they follow out. He loses sight of her in the crowd. He pushes through, heading to his TARDIS. He notices the large diner in the distance and two figures running towards it, then watches as they make it in and it disappears. Just as they flee, the bar blows up. He doesn't want to be a part of the aftermath, so he escapes, with the young woman on his mind.

Was it who he thought it was?

She risked something great for her to see him again. He supposes he should admire how far she held back. Or perhaps even shame himself for not recognizing her, again. He thought back to the conversation with her.

Nine hundred years?

Oh Clara.

* * *

Far away, there was a diner that was traveling in the universe. The woman in the raven mask takes it off, to reveal the one and only Clara Oswald. The woman in the dove mask does the same, revealing Lady Me, also known as Ashildir.

"That was a risk, Clara, you know that." Ashildir chides lightly and Clara smiles sadly.

"You've read _Jane Eyre_ , correct?"

"We've read it together, Clara. Multiple times, it is your favorite book after all. Do you not remember the adventure when we met Charlotte Brontë? Are the nine hundred years getting to you?"

"Very funny. Nine hundred years is a lot of memories to consider, you know." Clara sighs, looking down at the console lovingly. "There was always a line I liked there. Well, there were many lines, but one stood out. It isn't until now how I realize how it applies to me now." Ashildir looks to her and already knows she will recite it, so she watches, "I have little left in myself - I must have you. The world may laugh - may call me absurd, selfish - but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame."

Ashildir did not need to know who the line was meant for to, as it speaks volumes. Instead, she glances to the raven mask that Clara placed down onto the console and smiles sadly at it. Clara follows her line of sight and nods. Nine hundred years of wonder, Clara supposes that it was enough for her life.

It was almost time.


End file.
